


The frustration, the heartache, the pain.

by BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse/pseuds/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In fact, Sid figures out as he looks around, a lot of the guys are sitting around half dressed, their eyes not willing to meet Sid's.</p>
<p>A crushing pain, one so completely devastating, has entered his chest. It tears at him, bringing up the past, the times he's felt this feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The frustration, the heartache, the pain.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gambina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gambina/gifts).



> set in some post-season loss :(

Sid sits with his head in his hands, the room filled with a quiet murmur. His teammates are quieter than usual, their hushed conversations leaving him out of ease, his mind not used to the unnerving quietness running through him. He took off his gear already, sitting silently in just a pair of shorts and his ocks. His almost nakedness bothers no one, everyone used to being around teammates either half dressed or fully nude.

In fact, Sid figures out as he looks around, a lot of the guys are sitting around half dressed, their eyes not willing to meet Sid's.

A crushing pain, one so completely devastating, has entered his chest. It tears at him, bringing up the past, the times he's felt this feeling.

They'd been so close; they're always so close only for the other team to rip it from them. The other team always finds a way to knock the foundation from underneath them, taking their dreams and crushing them.

Sidney can admit they choked this series, something the team had been doing a lot lately. Getting so far, getting so fucking close, only for them to suddenly lose chemistry, frustrating them into making mistakes, making stupid decisions that lead to the other team scoring a goal, their chemistry worsening as the cycle repeats itself for a cruel sixty minutes.

The worst thing though, the absolute worse thing about the loss they just experienced, about the heavy feeling gnawing at his chest, is that the loss that kicked them out of the playoffs wasn't because of their poor chemistry or any of the shortcomings they might have. It was because the other team was better. They had been out played from the beginning. The Pens had been clicking, hope searing through their senses, their passes connecting and creating chances; yet it was for naught.

"Hey," Pascal whispers, sitting softly next to him.

Sidney doesn't say anything, instead biting his lip in frustration and clenching his fists, his knuckles a glaring white against the redness of his still sweaty skin.

"I know, Sid. God do I know. This isn't the first time," Pascal whispers, his hand coming to rest on Sid's arm. "And, it probably won't be the last. But Sid, Sidney, you have to remember. We're gonna get more chances."

Sidney shifts slightly, the feeling in his chest still as suffocating as before, but he leans into Pascal's hand anyway.

"I want you to think about the first time; the first time we won the cup. That feeling of absolute bliss as you touched it. I remember the look on your face, the tears in your eyes as you looked at me. We had just stumbled into each other back then, do you remember?"

Sidney sniffs slightly, tears he hadn't noticed slipping down his cheeks.

"God, Sid, you were amazing. The way the team worked, the emotions we experienced that day; I get so gut-wrenchingly happy just thinking about it." Pascal continues on, his voice a calm spot in the storm that is Sid's mind. Pascal pulls him closer, Sidney now tucked firmly into his side, Pascal's fingers gripping tightly at his shoulder.

"I know, Sid. The frustration, the heartache, the pain. I feel destroyed and it won't get any easier. Looking at you, I can see you feel the exact same things we do. We were so close, Sid. So fucking close. I know how utterly destroyed you are because I feel the same way. But I need you to do something for me, Sid," Pascal whispers, his voice airy as he leans in to finish his speech in Sid's ear.

"I love you, Sidney Crosby. I love you with all my heart. This is a set back, something that everyone will be beating themselves up over. I need you to be there for the team so we can be there for you. Don't close yourself off. We're all in despair, all so stuck on this, and you withdrawing will ruin us for a good while if you don't step in, step up. The team is part of our family, Sid. We need to help each other through this. Okay?" Pascal finishes, his tight grip now a soothing rub upon Sidney's tense shoulder blades.

Sidney swallows, his throat dry, but he's nodding nonetheless. He let's his hands unclench, feeling relief at the small burn he feels as the blood starts to flow naturally again. He steels himself slowly, taking in Pascal's words until they leave a warm feeling in his otherwise barren chest.

Sidney let's out a soft laugh, his tears now gone, leaving only his red, watery eyes. "Thanks, Duper."

Pascal smiles sadly, letting his forehead meet Sidney's, their eyes locking together. "Always, Sid."

"I love you too, you know," Sidney mutters, his hand briefly resting on the arm Pascal still had resting on his shoulder. He squeezes lightly, his eyes shining with a complicated cocktail of emotion, before he's pulling back, taking in a large breath.

"Start with Flower," Pascal says in reply, nodding toward the frustrated goalie, his anger apparent in his rigid posture. He's still in his pads, though his jersey is sitting innocently on the floor next to his skates, discarded in quick anger when they had entered the locker room.

Sidney nods, giving him one last small smile, before he trots over to Flower, his gaze softening in sad acceptance. He sits down next to him and starts muttering things to him, his hand resting on his friend's shoulder, his posture calm and open.

\----------

Pascal smiles softly, watching his boyfriend comfort their teammate and friend. The world around him narrows for a moment, his eyes only for Sidney and his compassionate nature, before he's getting up himself, going over to where Chris is talking quietly with Geno.

"Hey," Chris greets him, his tone a hush in the already still locker room. "I see you got Sid up and running."

"Yeah," Pascal replies, nodding. "He won't be okay, neither of us will be for a while, be we'll get there."

"Good man," Geno replies in an unusually thick accent, his tongue mangling the wording slightly.

"He is," Pascal replies with a soft snort of amusement. "He just needs a little help remembering that."

Chris nods, looking at Sidney and Flower over Pascal's shoulder. "I think you reminded him."

"I always do." Pascal replies, nodding as Chris heads over to talk to the rookies, Geno heading toward Paul and Kris. 

Pascal finally makes his way over to Sidney and Flower, the two talking quietly to each other. Flower gives him a brief smile, mumbling something in French that Pascal doesn't quite catch, before his attention is once again on their captain. Sidney gives him a cursory glance, acknowledging him, before he returns all his attention to the frustrated goalie. 

But, Pascal thinks, not before Sidney leans back into his leg, resting as he listens intently to Flower.

Pascal smiles, not even the depressed atmosphere ruining the sweep of affection he felt for not only Sidney, but for his team; his family.

They hadn't won and that stung, but they'd have another season, another chance, and if they played to the best of their abilities, they'd have more than enough time to get it done.


End file.
